Maestro
by Rianyn Suki
Summary: After Zaibach, Strategos finds something he likes even better than controlling fate - teaching. (Folken Hitomi) Rating will be subject to change in later chapters! Ch 2&4 Revised!
1. Chapter One: Faded Light, Gentle Song

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne, nor any character therein. I also don't own the song, or the lyrics ' Sora' from the Escaflowne movie soundtrack.  
  


A/N: I originally began this story under the s/n ' Achilles- Heel' , but since haven't been able to access that account ... ^^;;; So I created a new one, and decided to continue this story! (This will be my second story to actually have chapters .. o.o;;) Enjoy!! Flames, comments and critiques are always welcome. ^^

Maestro

Prologue: (Faded light, gentle song)

"In the darkness, the dragon wakes." - Sora, Escaflowne soundtrack

***  


The library was quiet. 

A small room made of weathered stone, it looked even smaller as rows of book shelves stood tall and full to the brim with books of all different shapes and sizes; like a dusty forest. 

It was at one of these book shelves that the maestro lingered. 

His pupil sat at a lone mahogany desk placed directly in the middle of the room. Immense stained glass windows ran from floor to ceiling across one end of the library. 

It was the windows that gave the room an overwhelming sense of character. Each pane was a riot of colours and shapes. The story of a great battle raged within the panes, splattering deep hues of red and blue onto the thick rugs.   


The maestro breathed deeply, gathering as much of the musky scent of books and age as he could. This was his favorite room, and it was where he took his favorite- and only student. The time was late and the sun was sinking quickly, leaving a thin blanket of sunlight to filter in through the windows. 

This was Folken's favorite time of day; not quite evening, not quite night. Peacefully in between harsh daylight and subtle night. Looking up from the various books lined neatly along the shelf, he stole a glance at his studious pupil. She was reading a particularly old text cradled in her lap.   


With enthusiasm her face brightened, and he knew then that she had begun to understand the old book. 

After only two such lessons, she had already mastered one quarter of the books content. He had given her a particularly difficult passage today, with the confidence that she could decipher the text without his help- which saddened him. His composure was like the stone surrounding them. He hid his displeasure at the idea of their time together in the old library ending. 

Her lips moved unconsciously, mouthing the words he knew by heart. Before he knew it, his own lips were mouthing the words as well. The sun's fading light played fitfully with the shadows that loomed in the darker corners of the room, as if anticipating things to come.   


On Folken's cue, his pupil began to recite her lesson aloud.  
  
"Ma sahuul avate solablu..." A pair of sea green eyes stopped their decent mid page. Lifting her eyes from the old text on her lap, Hitomi regarded her teacher curiously.   
  
_He's so at home here...  
_  
His unusually tall frame was bent over a book shelf, like a composer before his score. Hitomi was suddenly very aware of his body. His long slender arms were resting on the shelf, and broad back was straight. His hair fell undisciplined across his temple in silky strands, to brush his shoulders. 

She could imagine those same strands pulled back into a pony tail and tied with a black ribbon, his dark robes switched for a slender velvet coat of dark green and a creamy cravat at this throat. 

The image made her shiver, remembering the times she had gazed at such paintings of men long gone from the world, yet so vibrant and alive on the canvas. But here she was, far from everything familiar and staring at a living, breathing man. He was so similar and yet different from those faces she remembered in her history books that she could barely keep herself from touching his pale cheek, to make sure he was real. 

Tearing her from these thoughts, a faint tapping caught her attention.   


One of his hands was absently tracing the worn bindings with long fingers. A flush spread quickly to her cheeks as she realized he was staring directly at her over a pair of wire rimmed glasses perched on the tip of his nose. His fingertips stopped drumming on the bindings.  


"Continue, please. You're intonation has greatly improved."   


His deep voice and gentle praise sent another shiver down her spine. But she wasn't feeling out of time. She felt her face burn, and her grip on the leather bound pages tightened slightly.   


"Thank you." Hitomi grinned shyly into her book, lifting it up before her face to better focus her attention.  


"Halun de anafluu..." She continued.  


Folken perused the titles before him, but could only absorb the sweet lilt of her voice as Hitomi read the words softly.   
  
_She speaks, and I loose all reason...  
_  
"Forhamin..." The late evening sun warmed her, and she closed her eyes, feeling the soft texture of worn pages beneath her fingertips. Time seemed to drop into peaceful slumber with each moment that passed within his company...  
  
"_Min, de fortuta caluum..." _His deep, smooth voice continued, picking up where Hitomi had left off. Hitomi's eyes opened with a start, her hands nearly dropping the old book.   


He was directly behind her.   


Folken's tall form cast a dark shadow across the pages. Hitomi could feel his presence wash over her in warm waves, sending a shower of tingles down the back of her neck. This was no painting; her teacher was no figment of her imagination.  


The soft words rolled off his tongue; exotic and rich. It was like music- each word a note, each passage a phrase brimming with melody. The room seemed to sway with his words. Hitomi closed her eyes, and let that sensual voice take her where ever it willed.  


Folken looked down at Hitomi's bent head, her hair tinted a vivid gold in the fading light. His hand rested lightly on the back of her chair. A soft smile flickered deep within his mind as he bent down to turn the page. His fingers brushed against hers. 

Yes, this pupil was becoming very dear to him indeed.  
  
_He touched me...  
_  
  
Bending his broad shoulders further, Folken regarded the worn pages with their bold black ink studiously. Gently, Folken began tracing the black symbols across the page, and Hitomi obliged him.  
  
_She did not draw back..._  
  
"Anos, renen atadonis..." she spoke quietly, hoping the passage would surface in her memory. She became aware only of his slender, pale fingers as they guided hers across the sculpted characters- and the rise and fall of his chest brushing against her back. 

His touch was light, but sure. A smile shone from her eyes. She continued to read aloud, for him.  
  
  
_I do not want this moment to end...  
_  


A/N: To be continued! ^-^

__


	2. Chapter Two: Seeds and Rememberance

Chapter Two: (Seeds and remembrance)

"On dragon wings, your wishes will leap." - Sora, Escaflowne Soundtrack

***

It was after midnight when Hitomi surfaced from the library.

Swinging the oak doors shut behind her, she struggled to balance the armful of books and candle she was carrying. 

Wrapping both arms around the stack of texts that ranged in topic from ' Mysterious Creatures of The Floresta Mountains' to ' Rise of the Industrial age : Zaibach's Vision', she balanced her tiny candle on top of the stack.

Waddling awkwardly down the cold, narrow hall Hitomi peeked around her stack of reading material. Larger candles in elegant holders flickered along the wall to her left. She could see the hall was empty except for the suits of armor which stood in a straight row along the opposite wall, their broad breast plates glinting in the murky candlelight. Each Knight held its own weapon, as if prepared for immediate battle. The first carried a mace. Another held a long bow, a quiver strapped to it's shining back. Their invisible faces were masked by grotesque helmets crowned with feathered plumes, which reminded Hitomi of a lions mane.

It felt more than disconcerting as she passed by. She quickened her pace despite her burdens, half expecting a cold metallic hand to close on her shoulder. 

Though Palas palace was without a doubt like stepping into a fairy book castle, it was filled with an alien aura. Hitomi felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise, and decided that this mysterious aura definitely became more intense at night.

Walking as quickly as she could without upsetting her armful of books, Hitomi stopped in the landing of a narrow, winding stair case which led down to her private chambers. The landing was bare except for a small arched window and a painting of a fearsome dragon bursting out of a black, wild sea. Hitomi had studied the painting many times on her trips here and there, and always used it as a way of recognizing the stairwell. She loved the way the dragon's black eyes seemed to follow her as she descended the stairs. 

After the past winter, Hitomi had decided with some humble satisfaction that not everything about Gaea scared her anymore. In fact, she was just beginning to feel a sense of gravity within her mind. She'd always thought of her appearance in Gaea as some sort of cosmic accident; like being plucked from the outside and thrust into the midst of a busy painting. But now, things were different. She was trying to deal with the confusion, instead of running from it. Hitomi would have never had the confidence to wander about Palas palace- any palace for that matter - a few months ago. But here she was, standing outside her own private bedroom. Actually, it was more like a giant kitchen with a bedroom thrown in for good measure. Though most with whom she talked to gaped and even gasped when they heard she was staying in the servant's wing, it hadn't crossed Hitomi's mind to be hurt. It was comforting to regain some of her independence and she liked the cozy atmosphere, which was far more enjoyable than shivering away in a more formidable chamber the size of a small soccer field.

Shifting the weight of her night's entertainment in her arms, Hitomi was about to fumble for her key when the door latch lifted, and the dark doorway was flooded with warm light. The smell of something rich and meaty reached her nostrils almost as quickly as a shrill, suspicious voice did.

" And just _where _have you been at this late hour?? Wandering about the corridors in the dead of night !!"

Her candle was promptly plucked from the top of the mountain of books and a strong arm wrapped itself firmly around Hitomi's shoulders, propelling her inside. Still gaping over the stack of books which reached well past her chin, Hitomi locked eyes with: _Tronc. _

She was a hunched, craggy woman no taller than a child with sharp black eyes and an even sharper nose. Her mouth was almost feline in appearance, pursed in a scowl, and her cheeks were wrinkled and spotted with white hairs. Though her clothing was in disarray, and nothing seemed to either fit or match, her peppery hair was sleek and tidy. Hitomi nearly lost her composure and giggled at the thought of Tronc cleaning her gleaming hair much like a cat would.

"Well?? Let's see," spat the tiny, grizzled cook disapprovingly as if she were surveying a piece of spoiled meat.

"Books up to your ears and a vacant expression. You've been in the library with _him.._" Tronc accused, sucking in her cheeks as if the very words tasted sour. 

"Dragon's tails girl! All alone, without being properly chaperoned? And with a _criminal _no less-!"

"He's _not _a criminal." Hitomi piped over the stack in her arms. So much for privacy. How did Tronc know she had been with Folken? It was eerie, the way the small woman seemed to know her every move.

"Hmm.. found your voice have you?" Tronc replied dryly, ignoring Hitomi's resistance and swiping the books one by one from her aching arms. 

"Can't say I find _that _new development all together comforting. Heaven knows what ideas that lunatic will put in your head! He's not to be trusted, and you'd best remember that! Keeping Zaibach's bloodhound in this very castle- gives me trembles just thinking about it!"

Hitomi's heart fluttered like a startled butterfly. "Do you know where his chambers are?" 

Hitomi could have sworn Tronc's weather worn face paled. Setting the books down in a neat pile on a small oak table, she waved exasperatedly for Hitomi to sit down, ignoring her question. 

"Well don't just stand there gawking, girl! I've kept your dinner warm again. And you'd better eat every last scrap!" 

Hitomi wondered why Tronc hadn't answered her question. The little woman had seemed afraid and nervous, as if Hitomi had reminded her of something lurking unseen in the shadows. Hitomi wished she had the little kitchen all to herself.

Tronc however was the only person willing to offer Hitomi a room. She was grateful, even though the cook had since decided that Hitomi needed watching. Despite her new resolve to be positive, it was difficult when she was continually met with mistrust and even scorn.

__

Hitomi Kanzaki, from the Mystic Moon? She doesn't look like a goddess if you ask me, with that hair and those skinny legs! How can the King be sure she's even telling the truth!?"

Though King Aston had been very gracious to her, Hitomi sensed he was uneasy. The thought bothered her. She didn't mean anybody any harm, especially a King.

Climbing onto the cold wooden bench which was pushed up to the table, Hitomi clasped her hands in her lap as Tronc busied herself at the hearth. A huge pot was placed on top of a raging fire. It made bubbling noises and it's lid clattered atop the steam that boiled beneath it. 

"He's _not_ a lunatic. And any ideas I have in my head are my own, I can assure you."

A steaming bowl was plunked unceremoniously in front of her, and the smell of beef and carrots assaulted Hitomi's nose. 

Tronc was mumbling something like "By my whiskers...all alone, it's just not decent..." and after shoving a spoon into Hitomi's hand Tronc spun on her heels and stomped out of the kitchen, banging the door shut.

Hitomi watched her go, imagining a huge bushy tail protruding from her puffy skirt. The image brought a smile to her lips.

Looking down at her dinner, Hitomi considered pouring it back into the bubbling pot. Bits of unrecognizable meat floated in a brown soup that looked like, and had the consistency of gravy. 

Hitomi stirred her spoon carefully into the mixture. Tronc wasn't the best cook as far as gourmet cuisine went, and hunger was the last thing on Hitomi's mind at the moment. But she didn't want to hurt Tronc's feelings.

She ate in the silence that can only be heard when everyone else is fast asleep. The only noise was the roaring hearth which scattered sparks of burnt wood onto the stained floor. Hitomi relaxed, slipping back into the comfortable reverie she had grasped before the confrontation with Tronc. 

__

Why does she insist on being two feet away from me at all times, if she doesn't even like me?

Hitomi chewed thoughtfully and cringed because the meat tasted like raw shoe leather.

She wondered if Folken was still awake. 

Her face grew warm as she reached for one of the books Tronc had stacked on the opposite end of the table. It had a handsome emerald green cover, with the title : ' Myths of Atlantis' scrolled across it in decorative calligraphy. It had been the first book he'd ever given her.

__

Folken.

It was an unusual name. Perhaps there was a meaning behind it; something that his parents had had in mind when they named him. 

Hitomi had always known her own name meant 'eye'. Her grandmother had chosen it, despite her mothers wish to call her something less obscure. Her grandmother had told her years later that her name was a gift, and it reflected her deepest essence. 

She agreed that a name held power. Just thinking Folken's name filled her with warmth, and she found herself glancing around the empty kitchen as if expecting to see his tall frame bent near the hearth, his head nearly brushing the low ceiling. 

Hitomi's fingers drew on the books cover absently. 

She didn't even know where he slept. If he slept. She hadn't asked him how he'd gotten permission to meet her in the library every day. 

He always left at the same time, bowing stiffly but gracefully before disappearing into the dusty shelves, his black note book tucked under his arm. She never saw which direction he took.

It had struck her as surprising that the King would allow Folken free range of the castle, but then again she was sure the King did not want to antagonize him. After all, the King was granting Folken sanctuary from Zaibach, not imprisonment. Folken had made it clear that he wanted to aid the resistance against Zaibach's forces. Asturia and The Strategos had a common goal. 

Hitomi grinned to herself, indulgently. 

In the past few weeks, she had discovered many things that _she_ and Folken had in common. 

History, art. Even if they were speaking about works from two different worlds, Hitomi felt they admired the same quality in things. It was easy to become lost in conversation, and even easier to forget they were different. 

He was so calm and controlled. In the darker corners of her mind, Hitomi wondered if that control was his own, or what Zaibach had created.

Instantly, a memory surfaced in her mind. She had been paralyzed with fear. Dragons had let out blood thirsty roars as they passed within an inch of her trembling body. An eye, an enormous red disk stared at her, into her...

She was too terrified to think of dying. The dragon held her with it's penetrating, intelligent stare. Like the violent black sea in her painting she felt the beast's wild rage inside her veins, so deep she thought it would tear her apart. But something held her together. A firm, certain hand. Her vision blurred with tears as she had screamed silently into his palm. 

Hitomi shivered despite the warmth of the kitchen as she recalled the way his skin had completely absorbed the sound, leaving no hint of it's intensity in the air.

If she closed her eyes, Hitomi could still feel his presence behind her as he bent to murmur instructions into her ear. She didn't comprehend what it was he'd said at the time, but whatever it was she'd done it without hesitation.

Her mind had reached out to his calm strength instinctively. 

__

'I trusted him. Even though I knew who he was. I felt safe.'

Hitomi was staring absently at the book's green cover, running her fingers across the gold title. He had saved her life. She had never mentioned that day in their discussions, or thanked him. 

She'd had plenty of opportunities; the night he first came to Palas, and they'd met in the courtyard. The first time she'd stumbled across him in the library, pouring over a book and he'd modestly offered to tutor her in Gaean languages so she could understand the volumes she clutched. She could have thanked him then for helping her feel more at ease, and giving her back something she sorely missed.

But the moment never seemed to arrive.

Sighing into her palm, Hitomi traced invisible wings along the cover of the book. Another memory flooded into her mind.

His body had looked unnaturally stiff beneath his black cloak, as if his limbs were made of metal beneath it. His face wore an expressionless mask, and his eyes seemed to pin her to the ground. She had held onto Van for dear life, and tried to shut her eyes as they lurched into the air. 

The Strategos- Folken had watched them.

Then his black eyes had moved to Van, and she'd seen something flicker there. Sadness? Regret? Anger? 

__

"Nos en val athuul, Vahan!!"

His voice rumbled, floating past the beating of Escaflowne's gigantic wings. Van had tensed within her arms. Then Folken disappeared as they soared higher, his figure lost within a storm of dust. 

It had been the first time she'd heard Fanelian. 

Van hadn't say a word about the incident. 

Hitomi hadn't asked him what Folken had said, though she couldn't help being curious.

He'd sounded so earnest. So different from the detached mechanical way he'd spoken to her. 

Despite her best efforts, she caught herself thinking about the way the words had effected Van. He became even more withdrawn and irritable, and barely said a word to her for the next few weeks. Hitomi knew he was struggling with an inner battle. 

But to Hitomi, Folken's words had sounded beautiful. Like water trickling down her skin.

She never would have predicted that just three weeks after meeting the feared Strategos, he would be teaching her that very same music.

He'd become less and less mechanical around her since he'd come to stay in Palas. His wide mouth never smiled, but he looked peaceful. As if he'd acknowledged a deep wound and was now determined to offer what ever help he could.

She wished she could stay that resolute. 

Instead, she was battling against the constant feeling of being completely lost. 

__

"Fortuu na helh tu bahtue, e daamyn et sul."

The words floated across her mind, like the paper blossoms she had and her grandmother used to drop into the river by her house. Her grandmother had said that the blossoms were now in the hands of fate. The Fanelian words Folken had taught her their very first lesson had translated to : 

__

"If you do not trust the tide, you will never reach the shore."

Hitomi remembered watching his eyes as they had followed the passage, then looked at her. His eyes were not black, like she'd previously thought. They were a deep scarlet. Deeper than the color of blood, but softer than the dragon's piercing red gaze. Before another thought surfaced in her mind, she wondered what he thought of _her _eyes. It was a silly notion, and she tried to wave it off by flipping open her book of Atlantian myths and focusing on the first page. The book was written in Asturian and although she had already read the book several times, she couldn't make out the first character. Her eyelids were becoming heavier, and she chalked it up to a lack of sleep.

"Torret .. Torret ra .."

Maybe he hadn't even noticed the color of her eyes. They were very murky. Why couldn't she have bright, vivid blue eyes like Princess Millerna? 

"Still reading, I see? You'll go blind in this light." 

A thick candle was plopped onto the table, flooding Hitomi's eyes with light. 

"Aaaa? Tronc?!" 

"No need to shout, girl!!" 

"I ..." Hitomi stuttered, her cheeks flaming. Regaining her balance on the bench with both hands, a wave of disappointment flooded through her. 

__

Who had I expected?

"I'm sorry, Tronc. You startled me." 

"I can see that. Now, you'd best be getting to bed. Its late, you know!" 

Hitomi had shuffled half way to the small bedroom she shared with a tiger- sized ginger cat named Griffin, when she realized something. Panic filled her, and before Tronc could protest she was sifting through the large books on the kitchen table. 

"Goodness me, girl! Do you ever sleep!?"

Hitomi scanned through the books, but one was missing. This couldn't be happening. She couldn't have lost it! 

"Did you see a little black book here??" Hitomi asked hoarsely, the titles blurring slightly as she fought against rising panic. 

Tronc puffed herself up, like an aggravated peacock. She resembled one too, in her ribbon infested gown. Tendrils of graying curls protruded from beneath her nightcap. 

" 'Little Black book' ? Certainly not. Now, if it's missing we'll find it the morning. You'll need your rest if you plan on going to the bazaar..."

Hitomi's stomach lurched. _The bazaar! _She'd completely forgotten. She'd promised to go. But she couldn't get any sleep knowing Folken's note book might be lost. It couldn't wait until tomorrow. She needed to find it now. 

Grabbing the candle Tronc had left on the table she pulled the door open and banged it shut, cutting off the older woman's irate shout. 

"And you'd best stay away from that ... that _man_ and his - !!"

But Hitomi was gone.

A/N: ^_^ Thank you again to all who reviewed! I hope I caught all the 'Palas' mistakes.. ^^;; thanks so much for pointing it out, and for your patience with me.. XD I hope this chapter is a little easier to read now that I revised it! Let me know what you think, it's the only way I'll learn.. ^_^ Rants, suggestions and chocolate are always welcome! 


	3. Chapter Three: Judgment and Justice

A/N: Heylo ! Big thanks to Rina and Lady Laran, your encouragement means a lot! ^_^ 

In later chapters the rating will go up ...(Just for you Rina! ^_~) Comments, critiques and suggestions are always welcome!

Chapter Three: (Judgment and Justice)

__

'Justice is in the eye of the beholder.'

***

The hour was late.

Too late, King Aston decided as he gazed out the window of his private state room.

A soft mist covered the turrets. A hazy fog thickened as black clouds swallowed the moon, shutting out its fragile light. His great Kingdom disappeared before his eyes, fading into the darkness.

A rumble of thunder echoed in the distance. 

Somewhere behind the cradle of the Chantal Mountains lay an army the likes of which had never been seen on Gaea. In the midst of tossing and turning in his bed, King Aston had realized that as long as Zaibach was poised to strike, he would not get any sleep.

Instead, he had been calculating and weighing countless possibilities for the past three hours. All proposals ultimately led to the same conclusion.

Something had to be done with Strategos of Zaibach.

Aston left the window and began to pace again, his red velvet robes billowing out behind him.

He was trapped. 

His mind threw accusations at him. Why hadn't he seen it coming? Perhaps then he might have been prepared. 

He should have seen this coming. 

But he had been so involved in negotiations with Basram that he'd barely noticed the tensions mounting in his own Kingdom.

When Aston had agreed to grant Zaibach's military strategist sanctuary, he'd looked on it as an investment. 

An advantage. 

And he desperately needed an advantage.

Zaibach's black shadow had swallowed up more territory than anyone would have thought possible in such a short amount of time. And now that black shadow was looming behind the Chantal Mountains, the only barrier left between Asturia and total chaos. 

The thought was grim. 

His armies were no match for Zaibach's highly advanced technology. Asturia was a merchant's paradise, not a sleek military machine. 

Aston stopped pacing. 

He needed Strategos. 

But his people wanted answers. He knew once he confirmed that indeed, Strategos was in 

Asturia and yes, he was protected by the King himself things would push past the boiling point. 

The people of Asturia wanted justice. The few allied countries who's influence in turning the tide could be considerable wanted justice. 

And he just wanted to win the war. 

Aston turned towards the window to find rivers of rain streaking down the panes. 

Yes, something had to be done and quickly. 

He heaved a sigh as he stared at his own fatigued reflection in the glass. 

There was only one solution. It had lain dormant in his mind ever since Strategos had been presented to him at court. 

He would do the unthinkable, something that would debase the very contract of sanctuary. 

Strategos of Zaibach would be sent to Palas prison. 

Despite the fact he'd already reached an accord with Strategos, he had never specified how long he would be welcome. 

Strategos had promised to assist the Asturian army; surely he could do it from a prison cell. 

And if Strategos disagreed, he could always be turned over to Basram as an act of friendship from Asturia itself. There were many countries who would relish the chance to get their claws on Strategos of Zaibach.

He scanned his mind and made a mental list of everyone who had been present in court that day. 

Eight people in total, ranging from his own advisors and Knights to the Fanelian boy. They would have to be spoken with. 

It must be understood that no sanctuary had been granted on that day. That Strategos had been unwilling to assist Austria and therefore was taken to Palas prison as a prisoner of war.

Aston felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Things were seeming a little less chaotic now. 

He would address the people tomorrow, at the Bazaar. 

Aston turned from the window, from the gloomy weather. 

It would be the perfect climax, and would win back the support and favor of his people. 

Justice would be dealt, and that black shadow circling just outside the back door would dissipate a little.

Aston began to formulate his own speech inwardly as he swept from the state room and back to his bed chambers. 

__

Strategos of Zaibach shall remain a prisoner in this great city, as a constant reminder that we, the united people of Gaea will not yield ! 

A/N: To be continued!! I'm sorry if I'm completely shredding apart the original story line, but it's very complicated ^^;;; I think Escaflowne is a brilliant mix of fantasy and war, and you really have to know your stuff before you get the full impact of the ' war ' subplot. Apart from several history courses I took in high school, I'm not really at a point in my life right now where I can take some time and truly research the different aspects. I think this kinda of awkwardness came across in this chapter. ^^;; Still I hope you will enjoy this and forgive any discrepancies. Please feel free to leave any tips on how I can improve! ^_^

(And chapter four will have much Hitomi + Folken, I promise! Where is Folken's precious book, and just what does it contain? ^_~)


	4. Chapter Four: Fire and Rain

A/N: ^^;; Eek! I just re-read this, and I caught some mistakes .. (I whipped it together at around 2 am, so I thought I'd re-do it XD) 

Chapter Four: (Fire and Rain)

__

"Told myself for a long time; don't go there, you will only be sorry. Told myself so many times, I just had to take a look in those far away eyes..." - Vector, Escaflowne soundtrack

***

Folken gazed at his mechanical hand. 

It flexed, the shiny pins that formed it's skeletal frame catching the candlelight. 

The sharply tapered fingers drummed against the desk reflexively- like metallic spider legs. 

Folken placed his quill quietly beside the open ink bottle. 

The candle burned low, casting only a dim light across his sketches. 

His progress was on schedule. The plans for his new invention would be in King Aston's hand within a day. 

Efficient, thorough. 

Usually he would have spent the rest of the night in his laboratory, making modification upon modification until he was satisfied. Therefore it wasn't unusual for him to calculate possible scientific theories within his mind; but it was very unusual for him to be lost in a daydream. Or a nightmare.

Folken stared, transfixed as the light flickered like fire within the metal of his hand. He couldn't avert his gaze. It was moving steadily closer...

Fire. Burning. 

His throat constricted. 

He could feel heat from the flames as they licked at his limbs, encircling him. 

Voices. Whispers. Screams. 

The fire was like a great sea, washing over them all. 

__

Fanelia ...

Folken managed to shut his eyes tightly, and the images vanished. Darkness enveloped him once again, like a thick black curtain.

The sound of rain beat against the window panes.

He tried to focus on it, hoping its steady rhythm might drown out the sound of those voices, and clear his mind. Whispers. He could hear them still. Speaking at once, and so quickly he couldn't understand them. Panic was building slowly in the pit of his stomach, and his temples beaded with sweat.

Then, something permeated the darkness. 

Eyes. Eyes as green as the sea and filled with compassion. 

The desk rattled on its legs as Folken rose abruptly from his chair.

He looked down at his metal hand, which had balled into a fist. It was unfeeling.

Lifeless. Just as he was.

That was what Van had called him; dead. A shell ...

And he agreed with Van, of course. 

Yet...

Today in the library his hands had shook. Shook with what he didn't know. But he knew why.

__

Hitomi ... 

Her name grazed across the surface of his mind like a petal caught in a current, swirling and drifting away, only to be brought back to the same place again.

It filled him with an emotion he'd thought was impossible. 

__

What is it in your eyes?

It was a question he'd asked himself ever since she'd placed her trembling hand over his.

The day the dragons had come. The day Van should have lost Escaflowne to Zaibach.

Hitomi, rigid with fear had sunk to the ground at his feet, completely paralyzed. He'd smelt her fear in the air, and her short breaths against his palm. At that moment he'd been prepared to use her. She was a valuable tool; the perfect way to manipulate Van. Strategos was after all, renowned in Zaibach for his ruthless intellect and flawless stratagems. Nearly flawless. She'd looked up, her eyes moist and wide; and brought him to his knees.

It was devastatingly simple.

The realization that one moment could change so much was almost insanity. Yet it had happened, and the memory was still so powerful it still made his legs feel slightly weak and unsteady. He strode quietly to the window, gazing past his own reflection and out into the black sky.

Something in her eyes had stripped him bare. 

The plan had disintegrated quickly from there, and when Escaflowne had soared into the sky and out of Zaibach's grasp once more, he'd felt the strongest urge to go with it. 

Folken's gaze fixed on the tops of the turrets, which were wet and shiny with rain. Their spear-like steeples pierced the dark sky, where the moon struggled to free itself from the black clouds. 

Once he had soared above the steeples, and into the clouds on wings that were as powerful as they were forbidden. His body had sliced through the white mist effortlessly.

He could still remember the sensation; millions of tiny pricks of water against his skin.

Van was the only one who understood the freedom.

Folken looked from the window, to his bolted door. 

There was no one posted behind it preventing him from wandering out into the night, but he still felt caged. 

Turning back to the welcome relief of his one window, he reached out to lift up the latch. It snapped off in his shiny fingers, like a butterfly's wing. 

Slightly abashed, he retracted the metallic claw into the folds of his plain, woolen robe. 

He was too cold and harsh for such fragile things.

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Protect that girl with your life, Van.

It had been all he could say as Escaflowne had risen into the air, causing a storm of wind and dust to obscure his view of them. 

And everyday after that, he hadn't thought of her fragile eyes once. 

Turning from the window, he decided. He would fulfill his commitment to Austuria without any more distractions. He would do what he came to do.

He would make Van understand that to deny progress was useless. 

And he wouldn't think about Hitomi again. Not her eyes, not her scent. 

Determined, he was about to dive back into his work when something gave him pause.

A hesitant knock at the door.

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A/N: ^^;; ! Please feel free to leave any suggestions.. (I'm so *not* having 'writers phobia' ....;;) Hee! Mad huggles of doom ..XD! Thank you so much for your reviews!! They made mah day!!! Sorry for the evilness that is called cliffhanger, but I chickened out and decided to take some more time to work out the plot- so I'm now 'plotting' if you will. XD I also wanted to make Folken a little more mysterious in his true motives for defecting from Zaibach.. I hope it came across! ^^;; !! Thanks all!! 

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